


Limb from Limb

by BloodyBacon



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation, Amputation Kink, Blood and Gore, Come Swallowing, Gay, Gore, Horror, Hypnotism, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Overstimulation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Robotics, Short, Shotacon, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29306748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyBacon/pseuds/BloodyBacon
Summary: Luke wakes up one day and is unable to move.
Relationships: Clive/Luke Triton
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Limb from Limb

Luke laid on his back, staring up at a ceiling, completely stripped of his clothes. He was on an examination table in a white room with bright lights shining on him in every direction. There was a cart next to him too, one overflowing with all kinds of tools, and chemicals. Though, nothing an ordinary doctor could or should ever have next to a patient. 

Speaking of the doctor, he was pacing the room, eyes locked onto Luke as he smiled. He’d been circling him, excited seemingly. Every once in a while, he would stop, and lean over the boy’s form, as if to check for something. 

Luke couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, he was forced to watch as the doctor walked.. And walked, and walked. He was dressed in a white lab coat, black pants with a brown leather belt, firmly holding them in place. The buckle seemed … important, nothing that elaborate could be unimportant. It almost looked like a leaf, but the design was so intricate that it was hard to tell it wasn’t just some painted gold organ. His shirt was white, and soft, a black tie hanging down his chest, and black shoes that were clearly steel-toed. 

His hair was also white, with the occasional patch or speck of black. It seemed like the color was slowly draining from his body, even his teeth were pure white, it was … unsettling. 

“Oh- you can’t move a muscle- can you?” the doctor asked, and Luke … did absolutely nothing. He couldn’t even feel his own fear, but he knew deep inside that he was terrified. 

The doctor chuckled, and placed his hand on the boy’s chest, “no worries, this is exactly how I want you- calm- quiet, almost dead but not! It’s great- isn’t it? … oh- right- hahaha!’ The doctor laughed, slapping his hand on the table. “I forgot you can’t speak either! Oh- you’re a real gem- beautiful too-” He said. 

Luke thought for a second that he might be having sleep paralysis, and that was somehow a more comforting thought than whatever the hell was currently going on. “Mmmm .. i love boys but- boys like you- you’re like a fresh cup of water in the ocean- and I have a special place in my heart for the obedient, so if you’re a good boy i’ll see to it that you enjoy every second of your life from now on-!” the doctor said. 

Luke was still …

“Oh joyous days! I’m so happy you agree! Yes- the operation will most certainly be a success as well- you know what they say- twenty-seventh time’s the charm!” He chuckled. “Surely this time you won’t die- and this whole thing can finally be over- yes- let’s start- shall we?” He moved away from the table. His energy was gone, and it was almost robotic, the way he picked up his tools and moved his arms. 

“Such slender legs- they’re too delicate-” The doctor said, and a second later, after the disgusting sound of slicing flesh and the deep crack of dislocated joints and broken bones, he was throwing the leg across the room. 

Though .. Luke couldn’t feel it. His heart was racing, but he couldn’t feel anything. He could only think, “this is gross ..” as his legs were sawed, and ripped from his body. 

The sound of the blood splattering to the floor, the smell of his limbs being cauterized by iron, the feeling of his nerves being rewired to metal prosthetics … it was all just vague pressure on his lower half. Soon, he found himself going to sleep, and when he woke up …

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


…

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I love you!” Luke said, for what felt like the hundredth time. He still couldn’t move his body on his own, it only ever did what the doctor told it to do. His four limbs were metal, and so was a quarter of his face. He was laying on his back in bed, being plowed into the pillows, because that’s what the doctor wanted. 

Clive was his name, and over the past few days, Luke had become his most prized possession, the operation was a success, and he functioned just as he was supposed to. 

And it was hell. 

Every day Clive would come home, and Luke would greet him at the door. His body would move on it’s own, and he’d be forced to act like he was so extremely excited to see Clive that he just couldn’t contain himself. Luke groaned, arching his back as he gripped the doctor’s arms. 

Every day, Clive would come home, and the first thing he’d do is eat. They would eat together, and Luke would ask about his day. Oftentimes Clive would lie, he’d say something completely different, it was like one big game of pretend. 

Some days he’s a pilot that tours the world. Other days he’s a mob boss, sometimes he’s a welder, fisherman, a poet, a famous singer, even a taxi driver. All lies, he’s a compulsive murderer, and a convicted pedophile, and a freak. 

Luke wrapped his legs around Clive’s waist, gasping as the elder slowed down, thrusting hard into him. 

After he’d eat, they’d go upstairs, and he would gush over his work. The wires, how light the metal was, how “pretty” it was on him. He’d feel his entire body, and go on and on and on about how right it all was. 

But nothing could be worse than being trapped in a body, forced to watch as it moves without your permission, being a prisoner behind your own eyes, forced to feel everything. 

From pain to extreme pleasure, Luke came, tears rolling down his cheeks as he was kissed. He always cried when they had sex, it just felt like someone was using him, like a urinal, or a spit bucket. He felt dirty, worthless, and recently, he’d felt outright sick. 

Clive laid next to him, and the boy’s body twitched from the feeling of forced orgasm. He rolled over, letting his head rest against the doctor’s chest, nuzzling him. 

… sometimes it wasn’t that bad though. When Clive was silent, and it was all over, it was okay. His body was warm, and he felt good, he just wished he could lay there forever. 

But forever isn’t a concept that could ever truly have any meaning in reality, the moment Luke felt like he’d been given a break, he found his chin being tilted up, and a mouth attached to his own. Clive was just so happy with his work, so happy …

“You’re exactly how I hoped you’d turn out-” he mumbled. 

The tears continued to flow, Clive’s hand was moving under the blankets, making Luke squirm to the rhythm of rubbing and pulling, fingers being put places they shouldn’t, fluids and smells, he laid back, and Clive’s face disappeared under the blankets. 

His mouth, Luke was just too young to quite understand why someone would ever wanna put their mouth on a place like that, why they’d lick, suck, or kiss it, but he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that it felt good. 

Sometimes he even found himself craving it, his worst fear, that he’d start liking it. 

“A-hh! N-no!” he whined, gripping Clive’s hair as gentle lips pressed against his thighs. They kissed him, and Luke looked down to see nothing but a lustful gaze, eyes of attraction looking into his soul. 

Surely … Clive knew who he was looking at. He knew the personality Luke put on wasn’t his own.

That look in his eyes was for him, the real him, the one locked behind the moaning mess crumbling under his touch. It was … scary, but of course he would understand his own creation. 

Luke’s hips twitched, and that funny feeling came back, shooting through his heart, down his stomach and out of his legs, curling up in his toes and festering in his stomach. Clive kissed his chest, he was laughing, was it funny? 

He laid back down again, this time, pulling Luke closer to him. 

Maybe he was laughing because he knew, and he was just that sick …

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


…

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Luke opened his eyes … his body, he could move. It'd been about three years now. Day in, day out, he had wished he could just die, but … laying here on the couch in the empty house, when he’d usually be asleep, he was awake. 

He sat up, on his own, and rubbed his face. For the first time in three years, he moved his arms, and he moved his legs. He stood up … and took a step forward, feeling the weight of his body. He shifted around a little, he was nude, Clive didn’t like to give him clothes, his perversion would always lead to them coming off anyways. 

Luke wondered what was going on, sitting back down on the couch. He looked down at his hands, and he just kept opening .. and closing them. He opened them, and he closed him, tears falling onto the metal, sliding down the side of his hand, dripping onto his thigh. 

The door opened, and Luke slowly looked up, to see Clive happily walking inside. He shut the door, and looked over at his small lover, grinning as he waved at him. 

For three years, Luke had been forced to look at that face. He’d been forced to live this life, forced to be with him …

He stood up, and walked over to Clive, his captor, his living, breathing demon … and he put his arms around him. 

“Aw .. did someone miss me~?” Clive asked, scooping the boy up. Luke could only nod in response. 

“Hm? You seem a little different .. ohh I know what it is- you just woke up from your nap, didn’t you?” 

Luke nodded. 

“Aw- if you’re sleepy still, then I'll let you go back to sleep- but first” Clive said as he carried Luke up to their room. “ it’s been a while since your last checkup- so how about we see how you’re feeling?” 

Luke was taken upstairs, and set down onto the bed. He didn’t struggle, didn’t fight, just sat there as the doctor did his thing. Usually his body would be exploding with excitement, he’d be bubbly, and happy, and loud, very loud. 

But he was quiet …

The doctor nodded, “everything seems to be working properly … but you haven’t said a word yet-” he sat down next to Luke on the bed, and cupped his face. “You’re still in there- right?” he asked…

And Luke realized. He wasn’t asking if he was still alive, or anything like that. He was asking if he was still trapped …

Luke shook his head, and Clive cracked a crooked smile. He nodded, “I see …” and kissed the boy’s forehead. “I’m happy you’re out, how do you feel? Are you as upset as you thought you’d be?” he asked, “or do you find yourself feeling strangely empty? Maybe a little confused? Apathetic?” 

… Luke nodded, and Clive giggled, “tell me- how DO you feel?” 

“I feel …” Luke’s response was muddied in his mind. How did he feel? How did he feel? “ I don’t know ..” Luke said. And Clive’s smile disappeared. The boy laid down on the bed, staring down at the sheets. 

… “do what you want.” he said, and the doctor looked him over …

“I suppose it was fun while it lasted ..” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


…

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Luke stared up at the sky, the dumpster smelled absolutely horrible, and he’d only just now rolled his body over so he wouldn’t be face down in the garbage. When he woke up, Clive was throwing him away, but he did him the kindness of leaving the dumpster’s lid open. 

His arms and legs were gone, so he wouldn’t be escaping. This was day one of the rest of his life, and it would be spent in this dumpster. 

He tried to think of something to distract him, but there was nothing. Nothing but the sound of the doctor laughing, the sound of tools, screws and drills. 

The sky was bright blue, and it was warm. A butterfly floated by his face, and it landed on his nose. It didn’t stick around for very long, it’s blue wings sparkled as it fluttered off in the distance, and Luke just … closed his eyes. 

He closed his eyes and wished ...


End file.
